Saturday July 30 2011

DREAM: With a group of people…Anthony snagged my blue sunglasses. I demand them back but when I receive them I notice the right lens has been replaced with a lens from another pair of sunglasses. I start reprimanding him for his actions and preaching at him for being so rambunctious and disrespectful. I realize now that we’re all standing in the middle of my neighborhood. It rained earlier, causing small ponds to form in the most unlikely places, like in the front yard of an apartment. I look over to the right to find a ditch that’s formed into a body of water, looks more like a spring—stagnating—the water looks so clear and clean. I make a joke to everyone that we can swim in it if we want to…

Waking up later than I’m supposed to. 11:46 a.m.—Ling has been calling me nonstop. I arrive into work only to find I have to take an order off Rosemont, a regular customer that never tips. He surprises me with a five-dollar bill this time.

On the way back to the restaurant—on the interstate—on the phone with Margot…I made a small mistake by texting her what I meant to text Raven, “oh boy raven. I sure did get in trouble last night. why are our lovers so scared?” So again her and I are forced to have the same conversation we had last night. She doesn’t understand my friendship with Raven. It’s scary. And for whatever reason she feels her position is being threatened as an important person in my life, or rather the most important person in my life.

“Margot, I love you! You don’t need to feel that way. I’ve given way too much energy and time to you over the years…I don’t deserve to feel…” inadequate. “You’re mine! I belong to you! Again, it boils down to trust. You don’t trust me!”

Eventually we make some kind of half-assed decision to not talk until Wednesday—I’m in a hurry now cause I have to get back inside and pick up another delivery.

“Okay, I gotta go.”

Breakfast: Plums and Peaches.

Snapping the ends off the snow peas…in haste and anger.


Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Lemonade.

I found a handwritten note from Margot sitting on my desk…

I’m tired of fighting all the time and just wanna be happy. I really am starting to believe that the only way that will happen is if we aren’t dating anymore. I love you. But I’m unhappy and you’re unhappy. Our relationship sucks and it’s been that way for a while. I’m almost too tired to do anything to fix it. Seriously think about breaking up and how it might be the right move. ♥ Margot

I can’t get more than ten minutes of a lunch break before Ling calls, “Roberts? One order is ready.”

Back to the grind…

Stopping by Starbucks for an ice-cold Passion Tea Lemonade hookup.

Raven: “Alright you have 21 seconds to talk before my break is over.”

Me: “Okay. Well, life is grand…and I’m happy. Distressed and happy at the same time.” The truth is, I’m really uneasy and afraid. The fact that Margot has reached a point of surrender means something and I don’t know if I’m prepared for the cloudy days to come…

Strawberry Yogurt.

Rachel orders Gen Tso’s Tofu to be delivered to her place. When I arrive she’s wearing only newspapers for clothing by suggestion of Phil Gray to which she’s chatting with online at the moment.

Becca joins me for the last leg of my shift. She’s all dolled up in a pink and white dress after attending a wedding at Fort Story. After walking into the restaurant, Ling approaches me and asks quietly, “Robert? You have a lot a girlfriend?”

I just laugh in response. I can only imagine what he thinks when I get girl visitors like Margot, Rachel, and Becca.

Driving around and feeling the frustration of working overtime. The Go-Go’s blaring on the stereo…“We got the beat! We got the beat! Yeah! We got the beat!”

Back home—Josiah’s here with Jacob Clemmons. I haven’t seen either of them in a long time. Josiah’s gonna crash on the couch for a few days. Sitting in the living room enjoying my Chinese food—some UFO program from the History Channel on TV—Darren bolts in from the back patio telling us we’re all slaves by watching this. He encircles the TV screen with his hand and exclaims, “This is a propaganda machine!”

Dinner: Vegetable Lo Mein. Mission Street Blond Ale.

Seeking understanding and offering understanding—something new—an infant in an egg—I want this to progress!

I do think there are benefits to this separation. It took a while to come to terms with the idea for both persons involved. Maybe for me the hardest part was not accepting it but making steps toward acting on it too. I need an outlet and it can’t be just anyone—only one that feels deserving—one that feels right. It’s scary, not only to the naysayers, but even to me. As much as I’m frightened I am also hopeful…I’m old enough to trust my gut and my intuition. Love. Love, Robert. Love. But don’t forget to respect.

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

Friday July 29 2011

DREAM: There’s a showdown. I’m on the good side. Gunshots sound off—a few people get killed but the rest of the bad crew runs off. I catch up with an older guy who’s understood to be the sheriff. He was helping the bad guys. I call him out, “You’re a coward! You son of a bitch!” His face stays straight. Even though I know he has a gun ready to draw I have no fear because he’s the sheriff—he’s supposed to have integrity. So I continue my rant about his lack of justice and his cowardice.

Getting out of bed after 11 a.m.

All day shift at China Wok.

Breakfast: Peach. Mango. Orange Juice.

Hottest day ever…which is every day.

Lunch break at the house…The Steve Wilkos show on TV. Kevin and Darren lounging in the living room. Darren’s annoyed that a stripper from Mermaids didn’t call him after giving her his number last night.

“I don’t just give anybody my number!”

He marches up the stairs, “Somebody’s gotta be hardcore in this motherf@*$er!”

Lunch: Double Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips with Avocado. Lemonade.

The deliveries continue…


They go on…like stories…go on and on and on…

Getting the Starbucks hookup with an Iced Soymilk Coffee and eating a slice of Fig Yogurt Cake.

During most of the day I don’t like driving with any kind of radio or music but by nighttime I get an urge to hear some sounds to be a soundtrack to the evening hustle and bustle. Dreams by Fleetwood Mac comes on 92.9—it sticks to me and feeds on my mind.

They go on…like eternal souls…

Finally off work…after 12 hard hours.

Chillin’ at Raven’s place for a little bit—sharing tunes, sharing vids, sharing pics—her cat, House, purrs with contentment atop her hamper—wearing bunny ears and blowing softly in his face. Discussing when the prospective time should be before “I love you’s” are exchanged in a relationship and if it’s a bad sign when it takes too long. Every person comes from different family situations and thresholds for openness, and I for one took my time to decide when that right time was. But does it really matter how long it takes? Once the choice is made then…

Back home…

Dinner: Stuffed Green Pepper thing with Cheese I dumpstered the other day. Sparkling Grapefruit Juice.

Margot was waiting for me on the couch with everyone. I was being evasive earlier when she was texting me because I know her feelings on me hanging out with other vaginas, so to speak. And lately, a unique friendship has sparked between Raven and I, and Margot has expressed her disliking over it. I tell her where I was, after a bit of talking. And she blows up like a hot air balloon. I try to explain...But I shouldn’t feel guilty for anything because there’s nothing to feel guilty about. I shouldn’t feel like I have to be evasive. Everything between Raven and I is innocent. It’s like the child that lies to his mother because of the fear of her anger or fear of confrontation. Except, I’m not lying and I have to fear confession of a mere meeting with another friend, a new friend, which I understand Margot’s concern and insecurity in this. I would feel a little bit of the same way. But…

“You have to trust me, Margot! It’s always been about trust. How much longer is it going to take for you to develop trust in me!”

Granted, there is a lot of baggage on both our ends. And both her and I have reason to doubt. She keeps saying this relationship is doomed.

“Yes, Margot! This relationship is going to be doomed if there’s no trust!”

There’s mention of breaking up because she’s, we are, tired of being unhappy. It’s too much to bear….

Me: “I don’t want to hear that…You know I don’t like to hear that.”

My eyes get watery and tense…I

…moments pass…silence is recognized…

Distracted by her beautiful legs—caressing them with care. Then, placing my head into her chest—nuzzling…“Mmm. I love being here…I love this place…”

Her: “You’re weird.”

Now she’s sleeping in my bed as I write this memoir of the day…

I join her…4:30 a.m.

Thursday July 28 2011

DREAM: Standing in the hallway of a strange facility that’s a part of a spaceship. James is with me. We enter a small corridor—behind the door we hear grunt sounds like a pig.

“Don’t open that door yet!”

We back away…but whatever was making those animal noises found a way out the back. I look to the right…and see a big black bull-like beast hopping around ferociously in the mess hall. It pounces toward me. I brace myself and pin the monster to the floor.

Not sure what else to do, I ask James and whoever else around me, “How do I beat him?”

It’s understood that there’s only one way to kill this monster…I figure out a way and it’s done. ☼☼☼ I walk into the kitchen of my home to find the refrigerator pulled out from the wall with stuff tossed behind it. It’s understood Anthony that was responsible for this. In irritation I pull it out even further to evaluate the damages, but just then I hear a clanging sound that tells me the shelving collapsed inside. I look down and a compartment in the fridge implodes and water starts pouring out all over the floor. I unplug the electric cord to prevent myself from getting electrocuted. For some reason this causes the sprinklers throughout the house to turn on and soak everything (There are no sprinklers in our house in waking life). I run upstairs to my room to make sure my laptop didn’t get wet. Luckily it was covered with papers and other things keeping it safe…

Waking up for yoga only to realize my body is nowhere near fit to get up and do any kind of physical activity. It’s still sore from tetherball. Back to sleep…

Sometime after 1 p.m. arising out of bed.

Breakfast: Bagel with Cream Cheese. Orange Juice.

At Earth Sound Studios with Mark compiling the best takes and editing Musicplayer’s nine minute song…


With so many parts and rhythms we have to take a few breaks…

The fruit flies have taken over our surroundings. In the trash can is a banana peel that’s been there for who knows how long. They’re becoming quite a nuisance.


Eating Cape Cod Kettle Cooked Potato Chips with Avocado.

Back home, Aj’s making wonderful fig recipes including Fig & Goat Cheese Sandwiches, Fig Honey Yogurt Cake, and some kind of Fig Stuffing with Rice.

Hitcher in the Dark on the TV for the third time since last night…Anthony can’t seem to get enough of it. Raven and her friend Jonathan are here…

Jamming on guitars with Anthony and Jonathan—playing a few folkie progressions and belching out nonsensical lyrics—Kevin joins us on violin. A new drop-d melody purges on my instrument—everyone vamping on it for a while.

Rose petals somehow end up in the bathtub and trailing down the stairs again…

Something’s wrong with me tonight, internally…Margot is calling me right in the middle of this realization…bad timing because I know I’m going to be a Debbie Downer and bring her cutesy-happy-girlfriend mood down. I don’t want to do that.

Me: “I’m in a weird mood…I’m sorry…You know me…I’m having one of those times…I feel a little depressed.”

She’s here now…trying to cheer me up. She’s feeling sexy and blatantly wanting sex. I don’t feel sexy or sexual and I hate denying her.

In an Italian accent or maybe a Russian accent she says, “Come to me. Come to my bosom. I make you feel better…”

Discussing the hardships and weight a woman has to bear when having a baby.

Her: “I wish I could impregnate you.”

There’s a ton of thoughts simmering through my mind…she reminds me that I get like this every year around the time of my birthday. Maybe it’s a mid-20’s crisis. It is. I’m reminded of how old I am and how time keeps floating by. I can’t help but reflect on my productivity and progress. Really, I’m a happy man—a happy and fulfilled human being. I have to reiterate to myself that I’m experiencing the best times in my life. Last year I went to visit Phil on the farm for my birthday. Turned my cell phone off and soaked in the feeling of exclusion from the modern world. Green. Nature. Animals. Peaches. It was a refreshing experience…

Me: “Everyone should do this at least once a year, if not more.”

Eventually, she leaves…unfulfilled and wanting and awful because of me.
Me: “I’m sorry. Please try to understand….”

I hate bringing her down…my baby. She doesn’t like it when I get like this and takes it too personally.

Me: “I love you so much. You’re very important to me. It’s not you. It’s my problem.”

I get a text from her after she leaves that I don’t know how to respond to…“Sometimes I think I’d be an overall happier person if I wasn’t with you.” That’s a scary statement to make.

Dinner: Baked Cod Fillets with Ketchup and Tiger Sauce. String Beans. Izze Sparkling Grapefruit Juice.

Watching Appaloosa [2008].

Strumming on a new melody—singing—getting lost in these melodies.

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Sleep 4 a.m.

Wednesday July 27 2011

DREAM: I’m the observer of a horrific scene—watching a woman, with her body tied up and hanging upside down…her face against the floor…someone is using a hacksaw to cut off her legs completely, just above the upper thigh. I can see she’s experiencing excruciating pain—white dribble discharge spilling out of her mouth—eyes squinched. Of course, the sawing is taking quite some time making it a bloody and gradual process. I overhear two women in the background discussing the situation. Apparently, this is punishment when losing in a game called London Bill. One of them says, “This is definitely not worth playing…”

Waking up just after 11 a.m.

Breakfast: Peaches and Orange Juice.

Warm Yoga session at Zen Hot Yoga. The room is kind of crowded today and we have a new instructor...she’s patient and helpful.

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Tomato and Mayonnaise. Cape Cod Kettle Cooked Potato Chips. Raspberry Lemonade.

My body is sore…feeling tired.

Cat napping…

Google work.

Blueberry Yogurt.

Car maintenance.

A slice of Pizza and a Banana.

Showing the horror movie, Hitcher in the Dark [1989], which was filmed here in Virginia Beach and Norfolk…a B movie. There’s a lot of people over here…

Dinner: Beer Glazed Black Beans with Onions and Rice. String Beans.

This movie brings a lot of laughs—funny because of it’s bad acting.

Eating a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Dumpster diving at Trader Joe’s—lots of figs, cereal, cranberry cinnamon dunkers, eggs, yogurt, etc. Anthony cheerleads on the sidelines as Leisa, Elliott, and I rummage through the bags, “Go dumpster divers! Go!”

Of the finds was a bag of flowers too, specifically roses. Anthony spreads the petals all over my car and down the stairs…

Anthony: “There’s something I’m really worried about with the Kindels. What’s going to happen to all the bookshelf makers? That’s how they make their living.”

Me: “You’re not concerned at all about the bookmakers?”

I’m terribly tired and my body is feels so sore…

Sleep 4 a.m.

Tuesday July 26 2011

DREAM: China Wokking…

Waking up around 1:30 p.m. Yeah! It feels good to hibernate and sleep in a little later than usual.

Breakfast: Cinnamon Toast Crunch Cereal.

Phone conversations can be fun and stressful all at once…

Going to some grocery stores with Margot.

After walking out of Trader Joe’s I comment on older ladies in their 40’s or 50’s who still dress cute like they’re still in their 20’s.

“I want the person I marry to be like that.”

She acts offended because I didn’t mention that person being her. But I was just making a general comment. She’s really sensitive as of late, but with good reason because we’ve had heavy thoughts on our minds. I try to cheer her up back at the house and distract her with a Donut Peach. Kevin and Lauren are here watching Maury on TV.

Kevin: “So where is Carmen?”

Me: “If I had a nickel for every time someone asked me that I’d have $1.10.”

Me: “C’mon, Kevin. How many questions is that? This is a math problem.”

After some thinking he responds, “That’d be 22.”

Kevin: “So where’s Carmen?”

Elliott throws a get-together at his dad’s place off Witchduck Road. He’s supposed to be moving to Ohio pretty soon. There’s intense tetherball matches that leave my right arm sore and puffed up like a marshmallow—water gun fights—hula hoop fun. Sweat. Sweat. Sweat. Some of the other kids are here that I don’t see often enough…James Nee, Wesley, Melissa Anderson, Brittany, Carlos, Paige, and a few others.

Drinking two cans of Coke. What am I thinking?

Someone gathered green figs off a tree from around the corner—enjoying some of those. Sharing my admiration for them with Melissa…the nutritional value and the undeniable vagina associations with them. I pick up one and take a bite…it has a yellow tint on the inside…

Melissa: “I’m no scientist but I think yellow is not so great.”

Snacking on a Carrot and Pecans.

Later, Margot and I go to Pacifica, a quaint little tapas bar at the oceanfront right across from The Cavalier. She’s all dressed up in a cute dress she bought from Target earlier in the day. Sipping on a cocktail they call Junk in the Trunk: SoCo, White Godiva, Bailey’s, and Cream.

Enjoying some Tomato Mozzarella Skewers, Pork & Ginger Pot Stickers, and Bread with Parmesan Butter.

Back home…a sexy episode…pleasure…I’m in love with her movement, her touchiness…

Lying there naked…I’m terribly tired too early (from the tetherball? from the cocktail? from the sex?). I nap while she reads her True Blood novel…

She’s acting cute as I awaken after about an hour…

I’m not up for too much longer though before I readjust myself back to sleep next to her…3:30 a.m.

Monday July 25 2011

DREAM: Entering a building that’s supposed to be my townhome complex, Chanticleer, but it looks different than in waking life, and I have to take a sketchy elevator to get to my dwelling. The wooden door and metal cage barely shuts properly—car moving up. In the hall—I’m approached by a black girl with intention of robbing me or causing harm. At this point I have complete control over the scene—I think. And it happens. ☼☼☼ Kenneth appears and gives me a Walkie Talkie. He’s doing his thing as usual attempting to talk my ear off with his plans and ideas. Rachel and I in the kitchen…opening the fridge to find it packed to the brim with everything. Someone sliced all the tomatoes we dumpster dived and put them into Tupperware….☼☼☼ Walking across the grass. Kenneth corralled a group of Mexicans to do his dirty work—there’s no telling what it is they’re doing but I catch them running around the corner as if something big just went down. I don’t pay any mind—playing dumb. I’m about to walk inside another building but baseballs are being tossed at me from people about 100 yards away. It’s some kind of game to see who can throw the farthest. I pick one up and toss them back but they yell back not to. I step inside the building. It’s understood that we just moved here. It’s unusually big with 5 or 6 bedrooms. There’s a second floor visible from where I’m standing. I crawl up the side and through the air duct—big enough to fit my body. A small black dog passes me. He looks ruffed up, leaving a blood trail in his path. Exploring further up the vent. The siding is loose and I can lift it up and peek through to other’s bedrooms: a girl sitting and working on her computer. It’s a dead end. I flip over and go back the other way. Out on the balcony I watch as some kind of dogfight goes down, except there’s a mouse in the center of the circle being attacked. I spot a few of the Mexicans Kenneth hired. I hop across the other side. The layout of this house is rather strange. There’s a mini-fridge perched high on the counter and cabinets near the ceiling out of reach. How is this even functional? I look to the left and see a stage set up with instruments and amps ready to be played. I think I’m gonna like this new place…

Alarm goes off at 11:06 a.m.

Breakfast: Banana. Orange Juice. Zinc.

All day shift at China Wok.

Margot’s peeved about the little segment of writing I posted yesterday that Raven and I wrote on the spot. According to her it was a “love poem analogy”.

Me: “you really shouldn’t take everything i write at face value. i didn’t compose the whole thing. and it’s barely a love poem…like it has a kids book feel. i have a crush on you remember?”

Margot: “…You KNOW I don’t like sharing and that’s especially true with you.”

Me: “you’re cute when you get possessive.”

Rachel makes a surprise visit at work and rides around with me on some orders…

“Every delivery driver should have a sidekick. You’re my sidekick.”

Stop by the house for food. Lauren has Maury on television. “You are NOT the father!”

Anthony: “Are you China Woking?”

Rachel: “Yeah I’m China Woking.”

Anthony: “I’m jealous.”

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Tomato and Mayonnaise. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Lemonade.

Sitting down at the table in the restaurant—leaning my cheek uncomfortably on my right arm—napping.

Figs and XXX Vitamin Water.

Storm. Rain. Lightening. Thunder. Waterfall from the Sky. Torrential Downpour. Sloshing my holey Vans through the deep puddles in the parking lots ankle deep. Defroster not working too well because my A/C is broke. Umbrella in use. Pity tips are a plus. “Twenty thousand leagues under the Chinese Sea….”

The power went out at China Wok for 30 or so minutes…

Finally off…settling down with a Vegetable Lo Mein…lounging in Darren’s room with everybody.

Raven brought over home baked Oopsyourcargottowed cupcakes.

Sipping on a Vienna Style Lager and Red Wine…

Kevin: “James I heard your sideburns were registered as lethal weapons.”

Referring to my loner tendencies…James: “Robert doesn’t hang out with his friends. His friends hang around him.”

It’s a nice chill night with friends…

Anthony thinks it’d be a good idea to hide my keys somewhere without me knowing. What a jerk.

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

Sunday July 24 2011

Awakening just before 11:30 a.m. I continue lying in bed for a few minutes—thinking—pondering—fresh and beautiful thoughts of surrender and change…

Breakfast: Bagel with Cream Cheese. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

“Once upon a time there were two boos named Raven and Robert and they were best of friends when convenient. They sat under caterpillars, loafed on bags of rice, drank high fructose corn syrup, and laughed at cats making biscuits. The end…”

“But the end wasn’t as near as they thought for the wicked witch of the east appeared and took Robert’s carriage in hopes it would end the boos connection but nothing could stop them. They were bound for adventure and the trials to come would only make their bond stronger. The beginning…”

“But alas one boo would be leaving in exile towards bigger towns and the empathetic connection would be tested for the first time ever. Never. Whenever.”

“Yes it’s true. For he was scared, the other boo. ‘Things happen for a reason,’ he kept telling himself. The other boo made him feel fresh, for that he was truly thankful. ‘Boos stick together!’ he screamed. And his faith was strong.”

XXX Vitamin Water.

So for the past few days I’ve decided to go sockless, which allows my feet to breathe. Today I’m starting the sleeveless muscle shirt trend and now I feel I’m turning into the stereotypical delivery driver. All I need is an 80’s era Toyota pickup truck and a backwards baseball cap.

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Tomato and Mayonnaise. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

I spot Margot’s car in the overcrowded Border’s parking lot. I demand she ride with me on an order. She just bought Hello Kitty pens from Michael’s so at work there would be no question as to whose pens they were.

“They’re undeniably Margot’s! Undeniably.”

A busy day for deliveries.

Lemonade and Green Figs from Trader Joe’s.

She left her pens in my car.

Her: “No! Don’t steal them! Bring them back to me tonight!!!!”

Me: “nope. mine. :)”

Her: “Stoooooop it! :(……..I won’t break up with you if you give them back.”

I happen to get an order on Abingdon, which is literally a block away from her house. She comes outside with a slice of pizza for the road.

“Thanks baby!”

As I walk away and back out of the driveway I notice she’s still staring at me, with a warm longing look in her eye. A second later I get a text, “I love you.”

After 10.5 hours I’m finally done with Chinese food….

Enjoying a Bavarian Hefeweizen.

It’s James’s birthday at midnight. We all signed a card and gave it to him.

Dinner: Chicken with Brown Rice and Broccoli.

Margot’s here in my room. I feel so tired. We just talk…sometimes talking about the subject of breaking up but both afraid to state an opinion either or…just hypothetical. She was pondering these thoughts yesterday. Analyzing some of the recent episodes that wreaked so much havoc on our hearts. Reclining back on the futon and staring at the fluttering fruit flies swarming by my desk. I just put out a fresh container of apple cider vinegar to catch and drown them. I can’t figure out where they came from….

Her: “Why would you want to be with me? I’m a nut.”

Me: “Cause I love you. That should be enough.”

She does this thing where she tickles me while reciting in a kid-like tone, “Tickle Bunnie! Tickle Bunnie!” A big smile on her face. Her laugh is reminiscent of a character on a Japanese cartoon where it sounds like its spelt, “Hehehe!”

It’s these little things that keep me in it…the cute adorable irresistible qualities. Even during uncertain times such as these, there are inalienable truths in respects to our feelings and desires that are hard to dismiss. I really don’t know what’s going to happen or how it will happen. But at least the bug is in our ears so when and if that time comes we’ll be somewhat prepared for it. But for now, I’m hers and she’s mine. And that’s that….

Cinnamon Toast Crunch Cereal.

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

Saturday July 23 2011

Waking up just after 11 a.m.

Breakfast: Orange Juice. Black Figs. Zinc.

All day shift at China Wok.

Just another scorching hot day in Virginia Beach.

She’s texting me but I can’t respond….

“I don’t feel good about us at all. In fact I feel terrible. All I wanna do is cry and lay in bed……….We need to make the decision to stay together or throw in the towel……….I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to break up.”

Busy afternoon for deliveries—but nobody’s tipping. I’m irritable.

Stopping by the house real quick for food. Darren and Kevin walk in. Kevin expresses his concerns from last night when Margot and I were fighting. He woke up from a dream and heard yelling in the middle of the night. His impersonations are comical and on point.

Kevin: “I was scared so I turned on the TV.”

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Tomato and Mayonnaise. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

A storm. Rain falling for 20 minutes. Ahhh. The air smells fresh and rejuvenated. No more hot sun. This is nice.

I don’t want to be the one that gives up. Does that make sense?

Busy. Busy. China woking. Haha. Get it? China Wok working. China Woking.

Am I. Soft, thoughtful. Wanting.

Strawberry Yogurt with Blueberries.

Lightening storms are fun…

Starbucks Coffee Frapuccino from 7-11.

After a busy dinner rush I’m finally off work.

Taking my Vegetable Lo Mein dinner to Raven’s place. Listening to oldies and talking about books. The conversation eventually leads into venting on my end—looking for some consolation—looking for someone else to help understand, a fresh ear, and an outside source. Her cat, respectively named House, serves as a good distraction.

Me: “I miss having a cat in the house. But then I don’t.”

I walk outside to leave and realize I fell prey to something I thought I was smart enough to avoid…the most corrupt industry in the city: The Towing Industry. Arbor Trace is decal controlled, clearly stated on a blue sign when you enter. In my mind, that did not apply to guest spots, but there are none. The whole parking lot is off limits to guests, not clearly stated on the sign. I should be pissed. And I am. There goes a day’s pay down the drain and into the pocket of someone else trying to make a living. But I won’t be selfish. Here. It’s a gift from me to you. Live prosperous my fellow American.

Back home. Sipping on a Fat Weasel Ale.

Car maintenance.

Missing. Sleep 3:30 a.m.

Friday July 22 2011 (PART 2: AFTERMATH)

Sleepy time??…….3 a.m?????? Not happening. After a few minutes of lying down…I attempt to touch her.

She mumbles, Get off me.

I think she drank a little too much because I know the difference between coherent half-awake Margot and incoherent half-asleep Margot. Whatever, I say to myself and situate my exhausted body. She’s fumbling around huffing and puffing because it’s hot in here. Our A/C is malfunctioning. I’ve got the fan blowing but it’s not enough.

Her: “Oh my god! It’s fucking hot in here. I can’t sleep. I gotta go!”

She gets up in haste, puts on her dress and prepares to leave. I’m just so tired and ready to sleep. I don’t care. Of course, she just stands there above my worn out body waiting for some kind of response.

Me: “Baby, I’m sorry it’s hot. I just want to sleep.”

Something goes terribly wrong as the clock ticks by. All the insecurities and rejections, mainly from last night’s episode, pile up in her head. It’s no longer about the unbearable heat in the bedroom but now it’s about the unbearable heat between us. She’s flippant and verbally abusive. I mean, how else does she expect me to respond back? I can only be stoic for so long before the rage and fury conspires to come out. I demand she just leave…

Me: “Margot! If you’re going to keep talking to me just leave. Or else get back in bed and let’s sleep!”

Violence…hitting me with her keys, and then kicking me with her gold high heels.

Me: “What the fuck! GET OUT! NOW!”

Of course, she’s not going anywhere. There’s a struggle as I drag her out of my room and attempt to get her downstairs. She stumbles down the steps stopping halfway. And then she bursts into tears. I reiterate to her the choices: “Leave or sleep! Get out of my house or come to bed. I’m fucking tired.”

There’s another struggle. Shoes are flown across the room, then out the door—the big heavy mirror in the hallway dropped to the floor. She stands there in the doorway refusing to step outside—her shoes on the sidewalk.

Her: “Get my shoes!”

Me: “What?”

Her: “Bring me my shoes!”

Me: “Why? What are you doing?”

Her: “I’m staying here.”

Me: “Okay. Finally.”

We finally settle back down in bed together—back to our almost naked selves. But she’s overwhelmed and feels defeated. She cries and whimpers—my hand rubbing her back and caressing her hair.

“……………..I hate myself when I’m with you………………You deserve a better girlfriend. One that’s not going to hit you when she’s mad …………..This is isn’t working ……………….”

I don’t have as much to say as she does but there’s a horrible truth in all her words. Is it time to throw in the towel? Is it time to quit? Is our season over? God, I’m so fucking tired, literally. But I can’t go to sleep when she’s upset and crying. I place my hands on her back like someone at the altar in a church would do and pray silently, God. Please reach your hands over her…over us.

After a while of my persistent loving affection, she encourages a short sex session, which is wonderful.

“You make me feel so good, baby.”


Friday July 22 2011

Waking up a little late…11:24 a.m.

Breakfast: Orange Juice. Black Figs. Zinc.

All day shift at China Wok.

The heat is awesomely overbearing…it’s one of those days that make you believe in global warming, if you didn’t already.

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

It’s 3:23 p.m. and according to it’s 99 degrees outside but feels like 113! “Dangerous heat index. Outdoor exposure should be limited.” I feel on the verge of heat exhaustion a few times…

Text from Margot: “Hey I love you so much and sorry I got so mad. I do wanna be with you. But I’m still a lil peeved about it.”

Me: “i love you too. don’t worry. i know u want to be w me. i don’t ever believe you when you say otherwise.”

Her: “Well maybe you should. Cause I was thinking about doing it all day til I decided I do want to be with you and be happy and love you.”

Luckily the orders die down in mid-afternoon, which allows me to hide from the sun and finish snapping the ends off the snow peas.

The madness begins…

Strawberry Yogurt.

Apparently, it’s National Don’t Tip Day again…the “SHIT” tips are piling up like hot cakes. People just don’t get it. They don’t know what it’s like to walk in these holey Vans slip-ons, or what it’s like to drive in this God forsaken claustrophobic town.

Border’s Bookstore is closing down. And the chain all across America is going out of business. It’s sad to keep driving by there seeing those big signs: 40% OFF EVERYTHING, GOING OUT OF BUSINESS. I’m afraid bookstores are following the same path of doom that record stores have walked down. Just like the tape, the CD, and the vinyl…the book is becoming a novelty rather than a source. The Digital Age of physical consolidation arises and we can’t stop it.

After 5 o’clock, it’s non-stop deliveries. This is probably the busiest day of summer yet. Maybe the horrendous heat is making nobody want to leave their house. FINE! Here I am…the China Wok servant at your service. ALL DAY AND ALL NIGHT.

Grabbing a bottle of Starbucks Vanilla Frappuccino from 7-11.

Finally off work. A 12plus-hour shift is ludicrous.

Enjoying a cold Blueberry Wheat Ale.

Dinner: Chicken with Brown Rice and Asparagus.

“Any thought you act on pushes you further out.”

Liquids. Liquids. Water. Bud Light. Milk.

Margot walks into my room—she’s been out with some friends. Few words are exchanged except for her need to go pee. Then she plops directly down on my bed and falls asleep in 15 seconds flat, not even kidding. I didn’t even get the chance to hug or say hi really. And I thought I was exhausted.

After some research online, I join her for sleepy time…….3 a.m.

Thursday July 21 2011

DREAM: Emily Hill’s wearing really small black shorts—we’re hanging out—there’s a positive tension between the two of us—something’s wrong with the rest of the world, or maybe just the world around us at the current moment. Sitting inside a portable trailer, the kind they have at public schools when there’s not enough classrooms to accommodate the high number of students. A king or ambassador is in control of what’s to come. The two of us have something to do with the end of the world…

Waking up at 11:20 a.m.

Orange Juice.

Extreme Hot Yoga session…Chrissy is our teacher today, the one that keeps a constant flow, fast paced.

During the final lying down pose…

“Focus in on your thoughts………Recognize the important ones and allow them to leave.”

Blueberries and a Plum.

Picking up my car at the shop after a day without it. Grand total: $644.21. The only thing I could’ve done to prevent this was not buy used tires. One of them randomly ripped its thread and caused a CV axle problem.

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Tomato and Mayonnaise. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Nothing beats a solo sexual release followed by a 20-minute nap.

Apple Fritter Bread and Strawberry Yogurt.

Google work.

Cleaning behind the dryer where a rotting piece of meat mysteriously ended up. When I discovered it about a week ago, I removed the actual meat but didn’t get the chance to wipe up the puddle of dried up juice and exoskeletons of fruit flies. Now it’s done and I feel better.

Taking the couch surfers, Jenny and Measha to Trader Joe’s and Starbucks where Raven is working—getting the drink hook-up.

Snacking on Carrots with Ranch and Pita with Hummus.

Everyone’s here in the living room—Are You Afraid of the Dark? on TV, “The Tale of the Ghastly Grinner”.

We get the bright idea to take our good musical spirits to 64th street at the beach.

Chowing down on Channelo’s Pizza and a beer.

The night sky is bright—light breeze in the air—the colorful lights flicker and twirl around Devon’s hula hoop—Darren’s dancing—Miles on the accordion—I’ve got a guitar—Kevin on his violin. It’s a good late night evening with friends and music.

Oh baby. I’m sorry. I know you had a long day and just wanted to be alone with me.

I’m stressed out because she’s upset. She gets so enraged. She wasn’t able to have me all to her self. Of course she’s making me feel guilty for being with my friends. She needs me though….

“Margot, I’m just getting more and more irritated and angry the more I talk to you. I have to go.” There just comes a point in our conversations, while we attempt to understand each other, that we just have to quit. Just stop. Give up for the night. Try again tomorrow…

Dumpster diving at Trader Joe’s…

I need a stress reliever…

Two mermaids are sounding off their pretty empathetic voices while I smoke a Bali Hai, while we wade in the black sea that is our newly paved parking lot. Imagination….is more important than knowledge. Anthony and Lauren are the black sea creatures that keep me sane….

Mortal Kombat: Annihilation…

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

Wednesday July 20 2011

Waking up next to her warm naked body…

Sharing a Bagel with Cream Cheese and Orange Juice with Margot.

Chanticleer made everybody in our court park elsewhere so they could re-pave the driveway. Looking out the window, it resembles a painting of a black sea.

Kevin: “I have plenty of integrity. I just misplaced it somewhere.”

We’ve got two couch surfers here from Wisconsin, Jenny and Measha…Hanging out in the living room with Kevin, Dustin, and Lauren. The Steve Wilkos Show on TV.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this before.”

“Yeah, me either….this is probably one of the most genuine talk shows I’ve seen.”

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Tomato and Mayonnaise. Honey Oolong Tea.

Today is a sitcom day…

As soon as I say, “Elliott’s on his way with a good time.” We hear a knock at the door, and of course through magical timing he waltzes in. Soon after, Stephanie Lou and Calum make an appearance.

We head to the storage unit in Calum’s blue Volvo station wagon that was born the same year I was born, 1984. There at the unit, running through the song we’ll be performing in the show scene of Nostrum. Calum’s learning the melodies and chords on my little Yamaha synthesizer.

My car is still kaput at the shop so I have to organize getting a ride with the couch surfers and lugging the PA system with Elliott for the show at Kerouac Café in Norfolk.

Performing an acoustic Musicplayer set.

A guy named Wes blows on the harmonica—old blues style…

Miles Hoyle plays an amazing accordion—European two-step…

And Aaron Evans on acoustic guitar—a good diverse combination of musical acts…

There’s a notebook on the mirror coffee table entitled, “Rap Book”—Darren’s on a kick of writing short poems…

I compose my own ode to him…

In the kitchen cooking brown rice to go with my leftover Beer Glazed Black Beans with Onions and Broccoli. A few of us sitting on the floor and some in chairs. Darren takes the soapbox as usual leaving not one dull moment, describing the three near-death experiences he’s had in his lifetime, sharing his blunt ideas about this and that. I find it appropriate to interact in such a manner with him by allowing constructive debates and pointing out the absurdities and logic that lurk behind his brain.

“Darren, have you ever thought about being filmed, like allowing people to film you?”

Enjoying a good wheat beer from Trader Joe’s.

Darren takes Measha and Jenny to the Friend’s School playground. They come back with scratches and sap all over their skin.

Mortal Kombat on the TV…

Sleep sometime after 4 a.m.

Tuesday July 19 2011

DREAM: The rain was here…mud puddles cover the ground of this closed off public market area. It seems so abandoned late at night like this…3 a.m. The playground is inviting—I want to find a comfortable spot on the slide and lie down. The sun is about to rise—I can see the light blue hue appear in the sky. Any minute this place will be swarming with people. Exploring further…A bridge—the railing curves inward—the end in the shape of a Santa Claus head…

Alarm goes off at 11:11 a.m.

Sipping on a Simply Orange.

Hot Yoga session—feeling more in control of my body—our teacher notices the change. I like the personal attention she gives each of us—she knows how to guide us to our limits. During the last few minutes—lying there on my back, completely relaxed…she says to us in a breathy calm voice, “There’s two simple questions you need to ask yourself………Who am I? What do I want?”


“Now forget about that and let your heart respond…”

Afterwards…keeping up with the tradition of eating lunch at the Farmer’s Market Grille with Gillian.

“Everyone has to experience heartache at least once in their life.”

Lunch: Egg Salad Sandwich with Lettuce and Tomato. French Fries with Honey Mustard. XXX Vitamin Water.

Picking up some plums and blueberries.


Stephanie Lou and Ashley Pabon are here at the house. Rummaging through my collection of clothes to figure out my wardrobe for scenes in the movie being filmed in August. I feel like a Ken doll as they pick and choose what they want me to wear.

Apple Fritter Bread and Strawberry Yogurt.

Working a few hours at China Wok to help out with the dinner rush.

Belgium Milk Chocolate.

Darren’s downstairs cooking himself dinner all the while belching out Newfound Glory and Dashboard Confessional lyrics. Oh lord. I remember those days.

Dinner: Beer Glazed Black Beans with Rice and Broccoli. PBR.

Watching All Good Things [2010].

The queen is here…she’s lying down—every time I press my hands around her boobs she starts laughing hysterically.

“I like to hear you laugh…you seem happy.”

And it’s true. Lately, she’s shown signs of satisfaction, just an overall happiness in being with me. I like this. And I love being inside her—she makes me feel so light and limp—endorphins to the max…

Outside we can hear voices and hollering—picking out who they belong to. They had a birthday gathering for Leisa at the beach and 1435 is where the after party is apparently.

Eating a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

Monday July 18 2011

11:11 a.m. It finally crosses my mind that I should probably get out of bed now.

Breakfast: Two White Saturn Peaches.

All day shift at China Wok.

A text: “rejection sucks even from people that don’t matter.”

Strawberry Pomegranate Granola Bar.

Raven hooks a brotha up at Starbucks with some Iced Coffee mixed to a perfect consistency. 20 minutes later I’m shaky and jittery, a surge in my bloodstream. It’s been a while since I’ve had this much caffeine in my system. I mean, I think it was the venti size too. This feeling…I hate it and love it simultaneously.

Eating Salt n Vinegar Chips and whatever else is in my plastic bag of snacks.

There’s a mangled discarded mattress on the side of the road just off Laskin road in front of Linkhorn Bay Condos. It’s been there for at least a week now. I don’t think anyone will ever go out of their way to pick it up. How did it get there? Who decided this would be a good place to put a holey unwanted mattress? There’s something beautiful about it being there though—it’s lone persistence—waiting for someone to plop down and relieve it of its bareness. I want to be her man. But I’m not her man today. [see above photo for full effect]

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Honey Oolong Tea.

Delivering an order in Welcome Square. They’re regulars—the two ladies have that typical nonchalant attitude that I expect from them anyway. This time the one lady comments about how cute I look and asks how old I am. Caught off guard a little bit.

Me: “I’m…26.”

Her: “Hmm.”

There’s something special about today. Maybe it was the caffeine boost. Maybe it was the ego boost. Maybe it was Beck on the stereo. But I feel in control. I feel super happy and in love with life. It’s a wonderful state of being really.

Delivering an order on the north end of Atlantic Avenue. His father placed the order online and thought he submitted his credit card information, but we did not receive it. So I assumed it was a cash order. Talking with the father over the phone—he’s senile and has no tolerance for mistakes, and doesn’t understand that the computer made an error. I’m ready to jot down his card number and solve this issue right now but he wants to analyze why this and why that in a long-winded rant. All the while I’m standing there in the doorway with the son, who is in his 40 ‘s, and knows his father well and half expected this. It’s been 20 minutes and we’re just now getting to the transaction. Phew. All the while my other order is late now. Thanks dad.

Business dies down around 8. Enjoying Crab Rangoon.

Margot makes a surprise visit—she just came from Borders and she’s really excited about the True Blood novel she just bought. She encourages me to get a tattoo on my forehead that says, MARGOT’S.

“I wonder what the world would be like if you had everything your way…Margot’s world…”

Finally off work after 11 and a half hours.

Helping Art transport a really nice burgundy couch he found off Oceana Blvd to his new apartment. Once we get it inside we lounge on the new find and shoot the shit about our China Wok work troubles—our boss’s temperament—the customer’s ignorance. He offers me a beer and few bucks for gas.

Back home.

Dinner: Cod Fish Filets with Tartar Sauce and Malt Vinegar. Asparagus. Milk.

Organizing—cleaning out the car—wonderful hot shower.

Sleep 4 a.m.

Sunday July 17 2011

DREAM: On the rooftop of a small house. On my hands and knees shuffling/swimming around the perimeter in the gutter, which is filled with sand. It’s some kind of new sport. I notice my step-uncle David approaching in the front yard. It’s understood that in dream life he had a skill for jumping or falling with style, like he could jump off a building and do body tricks in midair, then land perfectly on the ground.

“Teach me how to jump, David!”

Later I’m hanging out on the back porch talking with an old lady in a wheelchair. She has a basket of freshly picked black mission figs. I grab one and take a bite. It’s cylinder shaped, which is strange, and tube-like filling oozes out the bottom.

I find myself describing this particular dream to Kevin in another dream later on the dream cycle…

Sometime after 11:30 a.m. waking up.

Breakfast: Bagel with Cream Cheese. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

As soon as I walk in there’s a hailstorm of orders to deliver…sigh.

Delivering an order out on Shore Drive. The wife signs the credit receipt as the husband carries a gallon of milk and a 24 pack of Miller High Life up the stairs.

I comment, “Milk and beer, the two essentials!”


As soon as I arrive to my house to make a quick sandwich the boss calls me with an order. How hard is it to ask for just 20 minutes to get some lunch? It’s not happening. I’m on call all day. I’m a slave to the Chinese food industry.

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Oolong Tea. White Nectarine.

It’s almost 9 o’clock. I told Ling and Cecily I had to leave by then. Of course there’s still orders left and I get coaxed into taking four more, setting me back a little.

Getting the sound equipment and driving to Winston’s Café for the show. I hate feeling rushed all the time. My whole day consists of having a sense of urgency…

Snacking on Carrots with Ranch.

Playing a solo Musicplayer set alongside Dylan Gilbert and his band. Comfortable with my performance despite the lack of time to practice or warm up my voice. This is what I love to do. This is what I live for.

I didn’t eat any dinner and I need something now. Eating a slice of loaded deluxe pizza I found in the fridge with a Dunkelweizen. It belongs to Lauren but I leave an IOU note in place of the one I took.

Margot is happy—cuddling with me in bed and making cute animated noises of joy. I like to hear her laugh.

“This is good for you.”

Walking her to her car, she says to me…

“You have to marry me before the world ends.”

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

Saturday July 16 2011

Alarm goes off at 11:06 a.m.

Breakfast: Bagel with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc.

All day shift at China Wok.

Steady afternoon…

XXX Vitamin Water and Peaches.

Ling is interested in buying a moped. He’s asking me all kinds of questions.

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

As soon as lunch break is over the orders come rolling in like crazy. It’s another non-stop workday for me.

The sun is killing me…[[[[[[!]]]]]]

Snacking on Apple Fritter Bread and Yucca Chips.

When the darkness engages, streetlights, carlights, signlights on…I feel more relaxed at nighttime. Driving isn’t as strenuous. I miss the newspaper route.

Finally off.

Dinner: Vegetable Lo Mein. Cherry Coke.

Raven invites me over for soy-ice-cream-Big-Lebowski-chill-out-time. But there’s no soy ice cream because I choose my lo mein instead. And The Big Lebowski is quickly changed to Chitty Chitty Bang Bang [1968]. Her friend Lindsey is here too along with a laid back cat.

“Look, it was filmed at Busch Gardens!”

There’s an infant being carried around in the arms of Raven’s roommate.

Chatting with Raven. I find myself pacing around the living room as I vent to her my frustrations of being a deliveryman and a lover. There’s quite a list of conflicts in both areas of my life. She has her own to reflect upon. A good empathy session.

Back home.


Eating a bowl of Frosted Shredded Wheat Cereal.

I’m really beat.

Sleep 4 a.m.

Friday July 15 2011

DREAM: Exploring a candy store that’s built into a hotel (what’s understood to be The Cavalier). Holding my blue baby pillow. A walkie talkie device is attached underneath the end sleeve. I hold down the button to speak. I’m connected to a man at the front desk. I start praising the fact that there’s a candy store here that sells old-fashioned candy rather than the cheap modern kind. He says thank you.

Awakening from a deep slumber. It’s 11:08 a.m.

Breakfast: Bagel with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc.

All day shift at China Wok…

Oh man. It’s non-stop today—as soon as I’m done with one order, another is ready and waiting for me.

Delivering an order off Shipps Corner. There’s a big hand written “Welcome Home” sign near the door…[see above photo]

I’m sure that lady is uber happy to have her man back.

Delivering an order off Norfolk Avenue in Land’s End. I open the door to the front porch. An older lady is baking in the hot sun, her skin glistening wet with perspiration. There’s a horrid stench that resembles a dirty bathroom where the urine smells like it’s been stagnating. I can’t figure out where it’s coming from. She seems to not mind at all as if she’s immune to it.

As I’m walking out she says, “You have a safe day now. Watch our for the kooks around here!” [her eyebrows raise in caution]

Lunch: Egg Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Getting extremely frustrated with the traffic right now. It’s never been this bad. Finding out the hard way that the cops have First Colonial Road blocked off from Wolfsnare to Old Donation—they’re not letting anybody through—and apparently there’s a hostage situation in the Colonial Arms apartment complex, which I deliver to quite often. This forces cars to detour down Wolfsnare and turn on Great Neck. It’s bumper-to-bumper as we inch along foot by foot. It’s the most obnoxious and disgusting train wreck I’ve ever seen this side of town. Three orders take an hour and a half to deliver. I’m guaranteed to have at least one unsatisfied customer……and I do……

In Oakshire—he’s a regular but complains about the order taking over an hour, which it did. I apologize and try to explain the hostage roadblock. The order is $10.17. He hands me a $20 and wants exact change back, which is insulting to anybody who works for tips. I tell him I have no coin change and offer him $9. Then, as a solution, he demands I give him $10.

Me: “Absolutely not! I work for tips. I’m not gonna lose money for you.”

Him: “Well then you should get a new job.”

Me: “Look man, I did my best to get here quickly. I was in mad traffic. I don’t have change.”

He suggests that if I don’t give him exact change or $10 then he doesn’t want the food. This is so ridiculous. The guy orders all the time and he usually tips me a buck or two. And now he’s upset because of the wait, which I would be too. So I understand. I mean, the service was unsatisfactory in his eyes….

Me: “Okay, I guess you’re going to be an asshole about it. Let me see if I have some change.”

I pull out three quarters and a nickel. Surely he won’t have a fit over the missing three pennies. He doesn’t. But harsh words are exchanged. I try to conclude with an apology and reiterate that, “I do my best!”

XXX Vitamin Water.

Waiting at the intersection of Old Donation and First Colonial. The cops still have the road blocked. A guy in a big white truck takes a right and yells out to them, “Just shoot’em already!”

Even though Margot and I are on a break I felt the need to text her, “just fyi…i’ve been thinking about you and i love you.”

She’s a little unnerved about my interaction with Gillian last night after reading yesterday’s entry. “just fyi…you have some explaining to do.”

She rides around with me for the dinner rush…and I do the explaining.

Turns out the hostage situation wasn’t that at all, but a guy barricading himself and making threats of suicide…according to a police officer that Amanda talked to.

Dinner: Vegetable Lo Mein.

Back home—enjoying a cold Dunkelweizen beer.


The queen’s expressing to me her desire to make sweet lovin’ later. So much for this break. She comes over. But before any sensual exchange is made, we duke it out in conversation over putting “effort into the relationship”. Sometimes she feels too much, gets offended, and just wants to leave. And sometimes she says things that make me believe she’s more self-aware than I really think, like, “I haven’t been in any other relationship…I don’t know what it’s like being disconnected from you, Robert.” She keeps saying she doesn’t think people should have to work so hard in a relationship. It’s a good point because there’s only so much contrast and clashing of personalities a relationship can take. But I believe a long-lasting relationship takes work. Despite the heavy talk, it transitions into the light and fun interaction I’ve come to enjoy over the years.

[{*}] [!] [{*}]

What a wonderful feeling this is…sitting comfortably underneath such impressing beauty…while she rides and moves and grooves to our intimate rhythm……and it’s all mine. Why would I want to lose this? Just relish it, Robert. Take a good look. Capture an imprint in your mind just in case. Cause everybody fears loss but we know how powerful memories can be.

Sleep 4:20 a.m.

Thursday July 14 2011

My alarm goes off at 11:11 a.m.

Sipping on Orange Juice for breakfast.

Hot Yoga session at Zen Hot Yoga—different teacher. She’s doesn’t waste time—a much more invigorating experience—more sweat—more positions—more focus.

Lunch: Egg Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Tracking drums at Earth Sound.

Arriving right on time: 3pm.

Mark: “I’ve never met a musician that’s punctual.”

Me: “That’s key to productivity.”

Compiling the best takes from last night’s recording.

Yucca Chips and Apple Fritter Bread.

Starting out with the beast of all our songs, “Fairfarren”.

After playing through the whole track for the first time, which is about 9 minutes long…

Me: “We’re gonna have a good time with this one.”

It’s a strenuous session…

Ping-pong break.

Dinner: Leftover Mongolian Style Beef Paste with Mixed Vegetables.

Chris keeps on truckin’.


Moving on to “Minks”…

Strangely, it’s 11:11 p.m. when we finish.

Having completed drum tracks for 6 songs is an accomplishing feeling—only one step closer to a record.

On the drive back—talking with my mom on the phone. It’s nice to confide in her sometimes even though I don’t as often as I’d like. Expressing to her my frustrations as of late with the difficulties Margot and I are having. We’re so alike in how we understand matters of the heart and relational issues.


I find a Rachel sleeping in the hallway right in front of my door like a cat or dog would do waiting for their owner to return.

Snacking on Pecans and Popcorn and a PBR.

Gillian’s here—she’s pleading for my time. Apparently, I’m not the only one with the need for consolation. We go for a walk in the cool night—the moon is bright, a harsh beautiful shine over everything, revealing things normally hidden in shadows, even revealing the things she normally hides in the shadows. There’s an openness and comfortability she feels, and she doesn’t understand it. I’m kind of intimidated by it, and I should be.

“Sorry. I’m so stoic.” And I have a lot of reasons to be acting so. It’s not even the volume of thoughts on my mind, but it’s the perversity and sharpness of them that keeps me in a state of flux.

Smoking a Bali Hai…

“You are the ultimate antagonist in my story.” She needs someone to please and pleasure her. And I’m not the man for the job. I have no right. I’m still in love with someone else. My allegiance is with the queen. Distractions might help but they really don’t in the long run. I’m not stupid.

Sleep 4 a.m.